Tess of the d'Urbervilles eBook

Having buttoned the overcoat round her shoulders he
plunged into the webs of vapour which by this time
formed veils between the trees. She could hear
the rustling of the branches as he ascended the adjoining
slope, till his movements were no louder than the hopping
of a bird, and finally died away. With the setting
of the moon the pale light lessened, and Tess became
invisible as she fell into reverie upon the leaves
where he had left her.

In the meantime Alec d’Urberville had pushed
on up the slope to clear his genuine doubt as to the
quarter of The Chase they were in. He had, in
fact, ridden quite at random for over an hour, taking
any turning that came to hand in order to prolong
companionship with her, and giving far more attention
to Tess’s moonlit person than to any wayside
object. A little rest for the jaded animal being
desirable, he did not hasten his search for landmarks.
A clamber over the hill into the adjoining vale brought
him to the fence of a highway whose contours he recognized,
which settled the question of their whereabouts.
D’Urberville thereupon turned back; but by this
time the moon had quite gone down, and partly on account
of the fog The Chase was wrapped in thick darkness,
although morning was not far off. He was obliged
to advance with outstretched hands to avoid contact
with the boughs, and discovered that to hit the exact
spot from which he had started was at first entirely
beyond him. Roaming up and down, round and round,
he at length heard a slight movement of the horse
close at hand; and the sleeve of his overcoat unexpectedly
caught his foot.

“Tess!” said d’Urberville.

There was no answer. The obscurity was now so
great that he could see absolutely nothing but a pale
nebulousness at his feet, which represented the white
muslin figure he had left upon the dead leaves.
Everything else was blackness alike. D’Urberville
stooped; and heard a gentle regular breathing.
He knelt and bent lower, till her breath warmed his
face, and in a moment his cheek was in contact with
hers. She was sleeping soundly, and upon her
eyelashes there lingered tears.

Darkness and silence ruled everywhere around.
Above them rose the primeval yews and oaks of The
Chase, in which there poised gentle roosting birds
in their last nap; and about them stole the hopping
rabbits and hares. But, might some say, where
was Tess’s guardian angel? where was the providence
of her simple faith? Perhaps, like that other
god of whom the ironical Tishbite spoke, he was talking,
or he was pursuing, or he was in a journey, or he was
sleeping and not to be awaked.